Fiction: The Camel and the Horse

[kethni]

Name: The Camel and the Horse

Pairing: Matt/Mohinder

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Explicit sexual scenes, bondage and domination.

Word Count: 3782

Authors Note: For anon

AU where slave!Matt is Mohinder's special companion on his research expeditions across the land. As Mohinder's submissive he aids him in all aspects of his work and warms his bed (or sleeping bag, as the case may be) at night. Although Matt behaves himself and gives Mohinder due respect in public, he's secretly something of a pushy bottom and, even when other people are around, can be subtly manipulative to get his own way.

One day while passing through one of the villages Mohinder is preparing to study, Matt spies an orphan girl and wants Mohinder to take her in, despite Mohinder's reluctance. Perhaps the boys have a little fun in their tent before or after the decision is made. ;)

Author's choice if there are powers in this AU; perhaps Matt is wittingly or unwittingly employing his telepathy, or not. Thanks!



The camels snort and kick at their handlers as they are prepared for the long journey to come. Their long eyelashes bat the sand out of their expressive eyes before one turns and spits, spraying it’s partially digested dinner all over Samuel.

‘Those bleeding things are revolting,’ Claude says, shaking his head. ‘Get some damn horses and have done with it.’

‘People use them because they’re sturdy and efficient,’ Mohinder says with a shrug. ‘A horse isn’t anywhere near as good in the desert as a camel.’

‘They look better and they don’t spit or whatever the hell it just did.’

‘Aesthetics,’ Mohinder says, waving a hand. ‘The practicality is far more important.’

‘We all know how you value practicality over attractiveness,’ Claude snorts. ‘Where is your slave?’

‘He’s preparing the last of my belongings. Where’s yours, sunbathing I suppose?’

‘Peter likes to keep himself looking good. I don’t see anything wrong with that.’

Mohinder shrugs easily. ‘Naturally not, it’s only a shame he always seems to find something vital to do with his toilet when there’s work to be done.’



Mohinder finds Matt where he knew he would be: supervising the loading of the last of his equipment for the journey. Matt has a little more leeway than most other slaves, particularly than most other personal slaves, but Mohinder has never had any cause to regret that. He also lacks Peter’s pretty manners and soft tongue but Mohinder has never had those himself so from whom would he have learnt them. What Matt lacks in polish he makes up, more than makes up for, in substance. Peter would be worse than useless aiding in experiments, taking notes, and learning a new language. Mohinder’s never known him cook and for all his flattery he doesn’t seem to have any more deep understanding of the workings of his master’s mind than he does of Mohinder’s.

Mohinder shuffles his feet when he realises that Matt is waiting for him to speak.

‘Uh… are we nearly ready to proceed?’

‘Yes, Master.’

He isn’t smiling but instead looking rather grave.

‘Is something wrong?’ Mohinder asks.

Matt walks over to him and then a few feet away, drawing him away from the other slaves. ‘Master, these men say that you now mean to travel along the old river toward the village?’

Mohinder crosses his arms. ‘Yes, it is a more direct route.’

‘Is it not considerably further away from the sunken wells than if we were to follow the nomad trail?’ Matt asks. ‘I am only a slave and do not understand these things the way you do, Master.’

‘It is further away but we will get there more quickly.’

‘Yes Master,’ Matt agrees. ‘We will arrive more speedily, provided the water is sufficient.’

‘Is there some reason the water shouldn’t be sufficient?’ he demands.

‘No Master, only that when provisions were made water was purchased according to our following the nomad trail,’ Matt says meekly. ‘If you will authorise the funds I can travel to the market and buy more camels and water. It will not take more than a day or two.’

‘By which time we will have begun eating into our supplies! Damn it! We’ll have to follow the nomad trail and take water from the wells,’ Mohinder complains. ‘Carry on with what you’re doing. I’ll tell the guide.’

‘Yes, Master.’

‘And… hire a tent for an hour. We have time yet don’t we?’

Matt smiles sweetly. ‘Yes, Master at once.’ He waits until Mohinder has gone before returning to the other slaves.

‘What was all that about an extra camel?’ Nathan asks. ‘I only fetched one two days ago, laden with nothing but water.’

‘You cannot have too much water in the desert,’ Matt says firmly.

‘Sure you can, and then it wouldn’t be a desert anymore,’ Luke giggles.

Matt shares a look with Nathan. ‘I go to seek a tent to ease my master’s injured pride.’

‘I think sometimes you injure it for just such a purpose,’ Nathan suggests.

‘He needs no encouragement to put me to good use and his happiness is my only purpose.’



The tent is made of heavily woven cloth that dilutes the bright sunlight to a dusky illumination. Mohinder peels off his clothes and wipes the sweat from his brow as Matt undresses.

‘It’s so warm in here.’

‘You have often told me, Master, that coupling is best done out of the glare of the sun.’

Mohinder pulls Matt close and runs his hands over his chest. ‘Thank you for your discretion when telling me we hadn’t enough water for my chosen route.’

‘My only desire is to make you happy, Master,’ Matt says softly.

‘Make me happy then.’

Matt arranges the cushions on the floor and goes down onto all fours.

‘How did you know I wanted it this way?’ Mohinder asks, mounting him.

It had taken Matt little time to realise that this position is his preferred when Mohinder is feeling vexed and wishes to feel reassured of his place. There are other positions preferred for other times, moods, and situations, and Matt has learnt them all.

‘I thought you had told me so earlier, when you ordered me hire the tent,’ Matt says innocently.

‘Oh, I don’t remember.’ Mohinder closes his eyes as he thrusts into Matt, feeling the slave tighten and release around him deliberately. Mohinder never connects this motion with his climaxing more quickly when speed is of the essence, or Matt is tired and wishes to sleep. ‘Please yourself,’ Mohinder mutters, feeling his balls tighten.

‘Thank you, Master,’ Matt says, having been doing just since Mohinder entered him. He keeps himself teetering on the edge until Mohinder comes, and allows himself to do the same.

Mohinder lets out a breath, and wipes his face with his hand. ‘I seem to spend my life sweating.’

‘Yes, Master,’ Matt says, reflecting that he has both his own and Mohinder’s sweat and semen upon him. He stands up gingerly, wipes Mohinder off with a towel, then helps his dress before doing his best to clean himself up and dress.

‘I wish you would take more care with your apparel,’ Mohinder says, shaking his head. ‘There are some days when I am almost ashamed to be seen with you.’

‘If you should like me to draw water and bathe I shall,’ Matt says stiffly.

‘No, that would be a terrible waste. Be more sensible.’



‘You smell of sex,’ Peter says, wrinkling up his nose.

‘You smell of whore’s perfume,’ Matt retorts.

‘I do not!’ Peter kicks at the sand. ‘Why do I have to walk?’

‘Why do you ask me?’

Peter glowers up at the other man. ‘You’re not walking. You’re on a camel!’

Matt leans onto the pommel as he looks down at Peter. ‘You could have ridden on a camel. You said you would rather walk.’

‘I wanted a horse!’

‘Slaves don’t ride horses,’ Matt points out. ‘Know your place.’

‘Me! Ha!’

Matt considers his camel. ‘You could probably ride up here with me.’

‘I don’t want to ride with you. I want to ride on a horse.’

‘Horses cannot carry enough food and water for themselves let alone for us as well.’ Matt swings his legs. ‘We would not have horses and even if we wanted them now there are none here to have. So you may either ride up here with me or walk all the way like the rest of the slaves.’

‘My master wouldn’t want me walking.’

Matt rolls his eyes. ‘Your master doesn’t know does he? Masters only think of us when we have done something wrong. Even when they are using us we barely are worth their thinking about. He will not think about you when he can’t even see you. Run up to him and show him your sad face. Perhaps he will let you ride with him.’

‘A master should never see his slave is unhappy!’ Peter says, aghast.

‘Then a slave should never expect to cease being unhappy, and will spend the rest of the journey walking!’



At night in the rapidly cooling air they eat round a campfire. Matt gives Mohinder and Claude their food and then cooks his own while Peter wanders by with a handful of clothes.

‘Why do the camels shy away from your slave?’ Mohinder wonders aloud.

‘Do they?’ Claude turns and watches him. ‘It’ll be that scent he’s wearing. Bloody buggering things hate anything decently perfumed. Why’s he limping?’

‘I don’t know. Matt, do you know why Peter is limping?’

‘The slave is footsore, Master, for he refused to ride upon a camel.’

‘What do you mean he refused?’ Claude demands. ‘Stupid arse. I paid a bleeding fortune for him. I’m not having him lame himself before we get anywhere.’ He points at Matt. ‘Tomorrow, you tie him to a bleeding camel. You hear me?’

Matt looks at Mohinder for his response.

‘Certainly,’ Mohinder says, ‘if Claude wishes his pretty little slave tied to a camel then so be it. You’re not walking are you?’

‘No, Master. I ride a camel.’

‘Good. We’ll have a lot of work when we reach the village tomorrow, I don’t want you too worn out to be any use.’

Matt smiles and Mohinder blushes slightly. ‘Master is truly kind to consider his slave.’

‘Truly stupid,’ Claude snorts. ‘You could buy another ten of him for… what the hell are you doing, Peter?’

Peter walks over and kneels before Claude. ‘Seeking someone to mend these garments, Master.’

‘Who mends your clothes?’ Claude asks Mohinder.

‘Matt, of course, and he isn’t mending yours. Honestly, Claude, can your slave do anything?’

‘He looks good, which is more than can be said of yours!’

Matt quietly takes Peter by the arm and draws him away. ‘I’ll show you how to mend these.’

‘Thank you.’ Peter rubs his eye with his hand. ‘It won’t ruin my hands, will it? Master won’t be happy if it makes my hands rough.’

Matt rolls his eyes. ‘He had no business bringing you. Look, I’ll show you how to mend the worst of the tears. The rest put to one side. After a few weeks in the desert nobody will notice frayed edges and you can bring them out again.’

‘I can’t do that!’

‘Then have coarse hands.’ Matt turns as Mohinder calls for him. ‘Yes, Master!’ He turns back to Peter. ‘Tonight, after your master has gone to sleep, meet me here and I will show you how to mend these.’

‘I can’t stay up all night!’

‘You’ll have plenty of opportunity to sleep tomorrow,’ Matt says, as he heads off to Mohinder.

‘I will? Why will I?’



‘Let me go! Let me go!’

‘Your master ordered you be tied onto a camel,’ Matt says severely as he finishes tying the younger man across the camel.

‘Nathan! Nathan let me down!’ Peter wails, looking over at his brother.

‘Sorry Pete, your master did order you tied to the camel,’ he laughs. ‘He doesn’t want you going lame it seems.’

Peter tries to kick his legs but to no avail. ‘I can’t breathe! My mouth is full of camel.’

‘Lucky camel,’ Matt remarks, climbing up onto his own animal and taking the reins of Peter’s. ‘I told you that you would have time to sleep.’

‘Let me go!’

‘What’s going on here?’ Mohinder asks, striding up.

‘They have tied me to a camel, Sir,’ says the man bound hand and foot face down on the animal.

‘Yes, that was your master’s order,’ Mohinder says scowling. ‘If you had not been so ridiculous as to have insisted on walking then it would not have happened, would it? You should take a lesson from Matt; he understands that he is my possession and that I want him to be kept in good order.’

‘Like him!’

Mohinder walks around the camel and examines the rope, then walks back to Matt. ‘Who tied him down?’

‘I did, Master, as I was bid.’

‘Is there… is there any more rope?’

‘Some, Master,’ Matt says carefully. ‘Should I put some aside?’

‘Yes,’ Mohinder says, ‘And um… something to… uh…’

‘Tent pegs, perhaps?’ Matt suggests.

‘Oh yes, tent pegs, what a good idea.’ He pats Peter on the top of his head. ‘Yes, an excellent idea. Carry on,’ he says, and wanders off.

‘Ha, he’s going to tie you down to use you, and then you’ll be sorry!’ Peter snaps.

Matt raises his eyebrows. ‘My master never abuses me,’ he says calmly. ‘For instance he has never shouted at me in public or had me tied to a camel.’



They reach the first of the villages in the early afternoon. As Mohinder and Claude approach the village elders to give gifts and negotiate their stay, Matt unties Peter and begins establishing Mohinder’s tent.

‘You’ll be sorry,’ Peter growls as he tries to shake feeling back into his arms and legs.

‘I obey orders,’ Matt says briskly.

‘You could have persuaded them. I’ve seen you. Your master does anything you want.’

Matt pauses and looks at the younger man. ‘You’re a fool. You do not know how to care for yourself let alone your master. Without my aid you will die out here and you lie there bleating stupid lies where anyone could hear.’

Peter reddens and lowers his voice. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘You should be. Who else will teach you how to… look after your master?’ Matt returns to his work. ‘You should be seeing to his tent not lounging around. But “a master should never see his slave unhappy”, remember.’

Peter tries to climb down from the camel but loses his balance and crashes down onto the floor instead. Someone gives a tiny giggle but he doesn’t see who.

‘Don’t think your master will want you bumped and bruised either,’ Matt says dryly.

Peter mutters under his breath and stomps away. Matt checks the pan of soup bubbling over his small fire and ladles some into a bowl. He puts it on a tray with a spoon and some bread then walks a little way from the tent, towards some desiccated trees, and puts it on the floor.

‘It isn’t poisoned,’ he announces in the local language, ‘it’s yours if you want it.’ He backs away a few feet and watches.

After a few minutes, a small, dirty face looks out through the trees. Dark brown eyes stare at the bowl and then at him.

‘It’s for you.’

When she edges out of the trees he can see that she about ten years old and terribly thin. None of the other children he’s seen about the village have the look of hunger and neglect that she does. She pulls the tray towards her and pokes at the soup with her fingers.

‘Use the spoon,’ Matt suggests. ‘Or the bread if you must.’

‘Not supposed to be here,’ she says, and then pours soup into her mouth.

‘Us?’ he asks, and she shakes her head. ‘You?’ She nods seriously. ‘Are you cast out of the village?’

‘Yes,’ she says, coming up for air.

‘Where are your parents?’

‘Dead,’ she says flatly. She eats the bread in three swift bites and holds out the bowl again. ‘More?’

‘Did you eat them?’ Matt asks lightly, and takes the bowl.

‘A devil got them but he couldn’t get me,’ she says, watching with eagle eyes as he ladles more soup into the bowl.

‘Is that why you were cast out?’ She nods and to his surprise doesn’t snatch the bowl but accepts it graciously. ‘You should say thank you to me.’

‘Will it make you give me food?’

‘It might make me this bit more inclined,’ he says, waggling his little finger.

She considers thoughtfully for a moment. ‘Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome. What do you eat? Do the villagers throw you scraps?’

‘No! They throw stones and rattle pans and make noises,’ she says dismissively.

‘Do you have a name?’ he asks.

‘Don’t remember,’ she says with a shrug. She holds the tray out to him. ‘Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome. Do you live here?’

She regards him thoughtfully. ‘Won’t tell?’

‘No. I promise.’

‘Live near. Steal food.’ She grins and white teeth shine against her dirty face. ‘Never say thank you!’

Matt laughs and nods. ‘If you return here when it has gone dark you can have some more food. Different food. Would you like that?’

‘Yes,’ she says firmly, and then scurries off through the trees.



‘Matt, get me a…’ Mohinder looks around as Matt presents him with a glass of beer. ‘Oh, there you are. Just what I wanted.’

‘Is the tent to your satisfaction, Master?’

Mohinder shakes himself. ‘Oh, dear, I’ve been neglecting you haven’t I?’ He scratches Matt behind the ears affectionately. ‘Yes the tent is perfect.’

‘And the camp arranged as you wished it?’

‘Yes and the camp arranged as I wished it,’ Mohinder says, slightly surprised. ‘Did you um… did you get the rope?’

‘Yes Master, also tent pegs,’ Matt says nicely. He kneels at Mohinder’s feet and kisses his hand.

‘Goodness, whatever is wrong?’

‘Nothing is wrong, Master, not here in camp.’

Mohinder kneels down. ‘What then?’

‘There is an outcast girl, a child, who the villagers allow to starve because her parents died,’ Matt says. ‘She could be very valuable for your research.’

‘You can feed her, if you think that’s wise, but it’s only putting off the inevitable,’ Mohinder says.

‘Not if you were to take her with us,’ Matt suggests.

‘Oh no, Matt, you have enough duties without trying to keep a pet,’ Mohinder says.

Matt lets his face drop. ‘You are right of course, Master,’ he says quietly.

‘I am trying to be sensible and responsible.’

‘Yes, Master,’ Matt says sadly. ‘I always know that you will make the best decision.’

Mohinder pushes his hair back off his face. ‘That useless Peter creature was wailing about the place like a banshee. It’s a wonder the village elders didn’t throw us out of the place.’

Matt kisses his cheek. ‘Would you like to use the ropes now?’

‘Yes, yes, I think so.’



‘Is something wrong, Master?’ Matt asks, as he hammers the tent pin into the earth.

‘I just wish we could do it outside,’ Mohinder says. ‘I suppose it would be too dangerous.’

‘The sun is at its peak at this time,’ Matt agrees. ‘If we were to wait until the morning perhaps?’

‘I can’t wait that long!’

Matt smiles to himself, and then lies down to measure himself against the tent pegs. ‘I think we are ready.’

‘They look a little close to me,’ Mohinder says, worrying his nail. ‘It’s not the same if you’re not properly stretched out.’

‘No, Master but we have rope, not chain, and if the rope is too taut it might cause injury, unless you wish to cause injury?’ Matt asks meekly.

‘Of course not!’ Mohinder puts his hands on his hips. ‘Sometimes I wonder how well you know me.’

‘So… you don’t wish me to move the tent pegs?’

‘No,’ Mohinder says firmly.

Matt undresses slowly and then rubs scented oil over his skin while Mohinder fidgets. ‘Which gag would you like me to use, Master?’

‘The mouth corset.’ Mohinder nods. ‘Yes. That’s alright, isn’t it?’

‘Master is very wise.’ Matt puts a clean folded handkerchief into his mouth, then finds the mouth corset in a chest and carefully puts it on. It comprises of a stiff leather garment that starts at his shoulders, covers his neck, where it fastens at the back, and then covers his mouth and cheeks. The stiffness of the leather prevents him from moving his jaw or blowing out his cheeks. Straps pass over his head to keep the mouth corset from being pushed down.

Matt gives a small bell an experimental shake and then lies down with his limbs outstretched. Mohinder crashes to his knees in his rush to tie Matt’s ankles and wrists securely to the tent pegs. He licks his lips as he pulls the ropes taut and then his eyes glaze as he gazes at his captive.

‘Try to say something,’ Mohinder says hoarsely.

Matt makes a muffled, utterly incomprehensible sound.

Mohinder stands up and looks Matt over slowly. ‘Squirm.’ Matt shifts and squirms a little but not enough to move the peg. ‘You’re perfect,’ he says. ‘Don’t stop, keep squirming and trying to talk,’ he says as he begins undressing.

Matt almost rolls his eyes. The squirming is making the mouth corset even more unbearable while he can feel that at least one of the tent pegs is loosening.

Mohinder crouches over him. ‘You’re mine. I could leave you here all day and all night,’ he mutters as he enters him. ‘Nobody can touch you. I could put you… in a cage. Does that scare you? I could do anything to you.’

Matt does his best to look scared. Mohinder couldn’t get out of bed in the morning without him, and they both know it.

‘Oh God,’ Mohinder moans as he thrusts into Matt. ‘You like that?’ He slides his hands over Matt’s balls and takes him in hand. He strokes Matt’s cock in time with his thrusts, fast and hard. ‘You’re mine. You’re fucking mine,’ he groans as he comes.

Matt looks up at the roof of the tent and sighs. He can’t finish himself off or clean Mohinder’s mess. So many things to do and no way of doing them.

‘Look at you still hard,’ Mohinder says, yawning. He smiles and picks up his knife. ‘There’s only one thing to do about that.’ He leans over Matt’s prone form and cuts his hands free. ‘That was good,’ he says, putting the knife down again.

Matt awkwardly removes the mouth corset and flexes his neck. ‘I live to please you, Master.’

Mohinder flicks Matt’s erection gently with a finger. ‘You have a fertile imagination, Matt. Tent pegs!’ He smiles secretively. ‘I’ll give you a choice. Would you rather I ease your difficulty, or take the girl on our expedition.’

‘Master is too kind to suggest giving relief to a lowly slave,’ Matt says. ‘It would be wrong for me to choose it. Therefore, please might we take the girl instead?’

Mohinder pouts and toys with Matt’s cock. ‘Maybe I wanted to.’

‘The Master should always do as he wants,’ Matt agrees. ‘But he did offer his unworthy slave the choice.’

‘Oh fine, the girl can come with us,’ Mohinder says. ‘She is your pet though and you must not shirk your other duties.’

‘No Master. Thank you for your kindness.’

‘I haven’t finished being kind yet,’ Mohinder says, and applies his mouth.

The End